


The Floor Show

by Lanerose



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Bodyswap, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-27
Updated: 2007-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-05 20:19:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6721876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lanerose/pseuds/Lanerose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A visit to the museum goes a bit strange when a scroll causes Haruhi and Kyouya to swap bodies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Floor Show

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for mooglepuff as part of het_challenge.

That afternoon, they drove to the history museum Kyouya had gotten permission for the Host Club to use and dressed in their costumes (simple but elegant robes from the Song dynasty of China, today) before opening the club to their guests.

“What a wonderful idea!” Haruhi’s guests cooed. “And Haruhi, you look so cute! Have you gotten a chance to explore the museum yet? Could you show us around?”

Haruhi was doing precisely that when her group stumbled upon Kyouya and his guests – literally. Haruhi herself walked right into Kyouya. She bounced off him, and, flailing for balance, managed to knock the artifact nearest them off its pedestal. The girls gathered around Haruhi, quickly helping her up and checking to make sure that she hadn’t hurt herself. Kyouya bent down and retrieved the object in question. He smiled at them all once Haruhi regained her footing, the polite smile that meant less than nothing because it never even got close to his eyes. Their guests collectively sighed.

“Be careful, Haruhi,” he said, eyes peering at her over the frames of his glasses as he offered her the (mercifully) unharmed scroll. “It wouldn’t do for you to be indebted to anyone else and need to neglect your host duties.”

“Thanks for your concern, senpai,” she replied as a smile crossed her face that felt more like a grimace and wrinkled her nose. Haruhi reached out to take the scroll from Kyouya’s hand.

The instant her fingers came into contact with the rough papyrus, she knew something was wrong. The world shifted lightning fast, brown, purple, blue swirling before her eyes. She couldn’t feel her feet. Which was up? What day was today?

And just as quickly as it had lost focus, Haruhi could see the world again. Only, it seemed different somehow. She could have sworn her hand was on top of the scroll, not underneath it. And hadn’t she been wearing her contacts? She always wore them during club activities – the others wouldn’t here of anything less, and really weren’t happy that she still wore them to school on occasion. When did Kairi-san get so short - ?

Oh no.

It was like looking in a mirror. Only, the view wasn’t quite right. Maybe a fun house mirror…? Except she wasn’t out of proportion. She looked the right size. Except she wasn’t seeing eye to eye with herself. Well, her eyes connected with her eyes, but she was looking down, and mirror her was looking up, and –

“Kyouya-senpai, could I speak to you for a moment?” Mirror-her asked, taking the scroll fully from her hand and placing it back on the pedestal. ‘She’ bowed politely to their customers. “Please excuse us for a moment. We’ll be right back.”

Mirror-her grabbed her sleeve and dragged her off to the club’s staging area for the day. She glimpsed the deep blue robes she was wearing as they walked. Kyouya. She was wearing Kyouya’s robe. But her body was still wearing the light green that she remembered putting on.

She was in Kyouya’s body.

“Well,” ‘she’ said as ‘she’ locked the door, “this is certainly unexpected. Although all things considered, I suppose it could be worse.”

“How?” The word burst out before Haruhi could stop it as she dropped down onto a nearby chair. Seeing Kyouya’s humourless little smile on her face made her shudder.

“It could have been Tamaki or one of the twins,” she – no, he – he replied. Haruhi shuddered again as visions of Hikaru or Kaoru dressing her up in cute girly clothes – taking them on and off half a dozen times in the name of finding the perfect outfit – danced across her mind. And Tamaki - ! It didn’t even bear consideration.

“How do we fix this?” Haruhi asked, staring down at Kyouya, purple eyes wide. Kyouya smiled like a shark, and the hair on the back of Haruhi’s (Kyouya’s?) neck stood straight up.

“I may have an idea about that.” Kyouya straightened up, adjusting the robes where they had slipped so that they rested properly on the body that had been Haruhi’s. “If you’d be so good as to wait here, I –“

“Oh no, you’re not walking off with my body, senpai. Absolutely not.” Haruhi jumped to her feet and moved quickly towards the door. She arrived at the door much more quickly than she’d intended, the length of Kyouya’s legs carrying her faster than she had anticipated. So that was why he always walked so slowly…

Haruhi opened the door and allowed Kyouya to lead the way. She followed him back into the main room, where the rest of the hosts were entertaining their guests. He signaled with a nod of his head towards the door frame, and she paused there. Kyouya didn’t engage himself more than he had to – for him to follow “her” any further would be weird. At least she could still see her body.

“Umm… Tamaki-senpai?” Kyouya said as he approached the blond. Haruhi marveled at the fact that he had her inflection down perfectly before reaching up to adjust her glasses so that she could look down at people through them. Tamaki looked up, smiling.

“Ah, Haruhi! What does my cute wonderful daughter need?” The blond said. Kyouya stared at his feet for a moment before meeting Tamaki’s gaze once more.

“Excuse me senpai, could I speak to you alone for a minute?” Around them, the guests of the Host Club inched closer. Haruhi watched the group warily. Kyouya seemed unbothered by them, but few things ever really bothered him.

“Haruhi!” The King of the Host Club rose from his chair, towering over Kyouya as he through an arm about the other boy’s shoulders. “Surely you aren’t suggesting that we leave these beautiful and elegant young ladies alone! No, no, it is our duty as hosts to remain with them! Whatever you have to tell me, you may surely trust it to the ears of these delicate flowers!”

Haruhi suddenly understood why the others delighted in teasing her, because the expression on Kyouya’s face was, objectively, adorable. She could see him gritting his teeth, and shook her head. How unfortunate that being a host didn’t come with a dental plan. After a moment, Kyouya looked up.

“I… Senpai, that is… I…” Kyouya stopped. Haruhi had a brief moment to wonder if she really sounded like that before her jaw dropped to the floor as Kyouya used Haruhi’s physical body to lean up and kiss Tamaki.

“NO! TAMAKI CAN’T BE GAY!” shouted half of the guests as the other half screamed, “WAY TO GO, HARUHI!” Hikaru and Kaoru stood frozenly to one side while Renge laughed maniacally and Hunni-senpai and Mori-senpai stepped over to keep the guests back.

Haruhi couldn’t have said how she got to Kyouya’s side and wound up with one of her currently strong hands wrapped firmly around the delicate wrists Kyouya owned at the moment, but she was there in an instant. She yanked him away from Tamaki and stood, staring down at him. Kyouya looked up, unrepentant, but almost sad. They stared at each other.

She leaned down to him. Or maybe he leaned up to her. Or maybe both. Something like that. However it went, his lips were on hers, and it didn’t matter which of them was which. The taste of strawberries filled Haruhi’s mouth. She remembered eating them, back before this happened, when she and her guests were just having tea and there was no reason to expect that anything unusual would happen or that anything would go wrong or –

“Kyouya…”

Tamaki’s soft voice broke through and they pulled apart, breathing hard. He looked at them, eyes wide and bright with unshed tears. Haruhi could have smacked herself. Or Kyouya. Or would it have amounted to the same thing, since he was the one who would get hurt? Distantly, Haruhi could hear shouts of “It’s a love triangle!” and “Oh no, what will they do?”, but the guests didn’t really matter just now. Kyouya’s wrist dropped from her hand as Haruhi walked over to Tamaki and kissed him.

Tamaki’s kisses were softer than Kyouya’s - kinder, more gentle. He didn’t fight her, just let her do what she wanted while he stood, motionless, eyes wide. Funny. She had always thought he would close his eyes. She stepped back amid the horrified stares and joyful shouts about threesomes, heat rising in her cheeks. Kyouya even looked surprised. Served him right. If he was going to ruin her reputation, returning the favor was the least she could.

DING! DING! DING! DING! DING!

Haruhi experienced a moment of vertigo as the clock struck five. When the world righted itself again, she was standing a few feet away from Kyouya, who was inches away from a pole-axed Tamaki. The taller, dark haired man lowered his head and straightened his glasses.

“Well,” he said, looking around at the guests and members of the Host Club, “I hope everyone has enjoyed today’s floor show. Please be sure to tell your hosts your opinion of this new Host Club activity.”

“Tamaki-san, Kyouya-san, Haruhi-kun, does that mean that this was all an act?” asked one of the girls, her eyes welling with tears. Haruhi glanced around. Kyouya had already begun to leave, and Tamaki looked like a soft summer breeze could take him out.

“Yes,” she said, “did you like it?”

The wails of disappointed fangirls filled the room.

* * *

“Really, Kyouya, Haruhi,” Tamaki said later that afternoon, when the guests had finally left and the members of the Host Club had switched back to their normal clothing, “Warn me the next time you want to do something like that! We could have done so much better, more romantically, if I had known!”

“I’ll remember that for next time,” Kyouya replied, jotting something down in his notebook before snapping the slim volume shut. Haruhi looked up at him.

“Next time, senpai?” She asked, her voice trembling.

Kyouya smirked.


End file.
